


Skinner and the Punch

by tatooedlaura



Series: Life, Part 3 [7]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Requiem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-03-12 07:59:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13543107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatooedlaura/pseuds/tatooedlaura
Summary: Skinner meet punch ... punch meet Skinner ...





	Skinner and the Punch

“Scully. Hey, Scully, wake up.” He’d seen her fall asleep in cars, buses, planes, trains, boats, on chairs, couches, beds, tables, hammocks, blankets, coats, floors, benches, his shoulder, his thigh, holding coffee, sandwiches, red solo cups, his hand, files, but never, he had to observe with admiration, while talking to their boss at three in the afternoon.

Skinner, given he was that kind of decent human being, didn’t take it personally, knowing he’d sent them out on three strenuous cases in the last month, ones where Mulder had confessed she hadn’t slept well during, carving bodies and pulling all-nighters in search of evidentiary science that would hold up in court against the true scum of the Earth.

Not one to embarrass anymore, Mulder kissed her forehead, then crouched beside her, one hand on her thigh while the other stroked her cheek, “come on, Scully, time to wake up so we can go home and get some horizontal sleep. You’re going to have a cramp in your neck that you’ll be complaining about for a week if you don’t let me take you home.” Finally, her eyes began roaming behind lids, brain coming to life, muscles involuntarily tensing to sit up but he stopped her, “hang on. Don’t move yet. Just open your eyes.”

Doing as told, she discovered both Mulder and Skinner staring at her intently, amusement matched on both their faces, “did I fall asleep?”

Mulder grinned, “yup. Skinner told me to take you home so you can sleep there instead of his office. It would make both of you look kind of bad once his next meeting gets here.”

Moving her eyes from Mulder to her boss, “sorry.”

“That didn’t sound very sincere.”

“I’m not actually awake yet.”

Skinner sat back down at his desk, shaking his head, “get out before I find another case for you and before I forget, Maggie asked me to ask if you two were coming over tonight. Apparently, there will be punch and beef stew with red Jell-O for dessert. She told me to emphasize the red Jell-O.” Moving a file folder from one side of his desk to the other, looking proper and boss-like while mentioning jiggling, gelatinous foods, “I did not ask why.”

Scully was up and awake by now and apologizing again for nodding off, “tell her we’ll be there by six.”

Waiting until the elevator, which, after the remodel, now featured ultra-new wave 70s Muzak at its finest, “are you okay?”

After stifling a yawn, “yeah, I’m just tired.”

“You slept the car ride to the airport, the entire plane ride and all last night. You should be putting Red Bull drinkers to shame right now.” Meeting her eye, “you getting sick? Want to skip tonight?”

“Are you kidding? There’s red Jell-O.”

“And Skinner. We’ve never drank with him before.”

She stopped exiting the elevator and the automated door began closing, jumped back open, got confused and Mulder shoved her out of its way before it ate her whole. Stumbling out as the door began shutting on his as well, “should we call maintenance on that thing or just pretend it’s a carnival ride?”

Without hesitation, “carnival ride … anyway, I didn’t even think about Skinner. How do we drink in front of him? The punch is a thing of beauty yet a thing of the devil, Mulder … we can’t drink tonight, or you can’t drink or I can’t drink but we definitely can’t drink together.”

“What if liquor makes Skinner all handsy and he pulls your mom into the pantry or something?”

“Maybe I am getting the flu.”

&&&&&&&&&

They were on Maggie’s porch by 5:45, in the kitchen by 5:47 and laughing by 5:50 watching Skinner, bless his consummate investigator’s heart, trying to question the recipe for the Punch out of Ruth. She wasn’t having any of it, however and with a grinning headshake, kept giving him answers along the lines of toadstool and toenail of Gryffin.

He had already had a third of a glass of the Punch.

He did not get handsy.

He got comfortable.

And apparently, when Skinner was truly comfortable, he began the best storyteller this side of the Mississippi. He had them laughing, crying, guffawing, speechless and amazed with the regaled tales of cases, family, his time in the Marines (sans Vietnam, which he never spoke a word of) and his true take on the MulderNScully dynamic that played out four floors below his feet.

“Kimberly and I had been watching you two for years. We’d lost a lot of money on you, you know, and one of these days, I’m going to demand a compensation check.”

Scully regarded him over her tapping fingers against her single serving, slowly nursed, plastic mug of Punch, “you thought we got together after I fished his ass out of the Bermuda Triangle?”

Taking another swig, he showed off his blue teeth in a smile, “I could have had a nice little trip to Hawaii had I won that pool.”

Mulder, quiet, contemplative and only half-listening to the buzzing in his head, “I really should have just kissed you on that first case. I mean, you came in my room in your underwear. It was a sign and I missed it.”

Maggie tilted her head, “you went into your new partner’s room in your underwear after knowing him for two days?”

Scully kicked Mulder under the table, missed, took out Skinner’s knee, tried again, shifted the entire table, third time the charm with the whacking of her partner’s shin, “you could have said robe, you know.”

“Well, actually, you did start off in a robe then dropped it like a hot potato the minute the door shut.” Twinkling in her general direction, “maroon, I think. The underwear however, was a nice champagne color, looked especially good by candlelight.”

Dropping her head to the table, “you realize you are telling my mother entirely too much information.”

Ellie patted her on the shoulder, “it’s okay, dear, we don’t really have many stories from the early years. This is helping fill in the gaps.”

“You hear that Mulder? We have gaps.”

Rubbing his hands together and grinning like the proverbial idiot, “not for long.”

&&&&&&&&&

She found Skinner on the back porch at 6am, coffee in hand, not in pajamas thank God but in different clothes than he’d had on the night before. Scully made a cup of tea, then tentatively settled on one of the chairs beside him, silent for a time until Skinner emptied his glass, “how are you feeling?”

Skinner, hulking ex-Marine and secret lover of hedgehogs and sea otter, as revealed around 3am, gave her a squinting look, “I recall something about being told the military prepares you for anything … they were wrong.”

With a quiet laugh as not to jar her unbalanced boss, “you need two more cups of coffee and just a splash of Bailey’s in the last one then some greasy tacos and four aspirin.”

“Greasy tacos?”

Giving him a look of incredulity that traveled in tandem with her right eyebrow, “do you have another hangover food preference?”

Deflating as the sun began blinking through the moving leaves of the tree at the center of the yard, “I don’t know that I’ve ever really been this hungover. It took me three tries to get my pants on.”

Scully, her hand shooting up to block any and all of his next words, “I don’t … just … I don’t need to hear about your pants.”

“Good point. Anyways,” standing, “do you need any water? Do you have greasy tacos here? Is there a trip to Taco Bell in your future?”

Stopping to assess, “actually, I’m not hungover at all. I feel really strange but it’s not a hangover. I know a Punch hangover and this isn’t it.” She stared across the grass for a moment, then looked up at her still cemented in place superior, “but I can go get you some tacos if you’d like me to.”

Face paling slightly, “I think I’ll just stick to the water for now.”

Scully slid down in her chair, curling her legs beneath her, resting her head against the back of the wicker, “I’m telling you … coffee and Bailey’s will take the edge off.”

Giving in to the pain his body was feeling, “okay. Which cupboard is it in?”

&&&&&&&&&&

Mulder was up and at ‘em by 7 and both were pulling on shoes for a quick trip home to change before work while Skinner, moving slowly, accepted his fourth glass of water from a smiling Maggie, “can the new guy ask a question about Thursday card parties and liquor consumption?”

“Sure.”

Looking at Maggie, “why don’t you do it on Friday instead? Then no one has to work the next day.”

With a ‘pppssht’ in his direction, Mulder handed Scully her jacket, “you may not work weekends but we do.”

“Sorry about that.”

“Crime never stops, Walter, and neither do Moose and Squirrel.” Taking Scully’s hand, he kissed Maggie goodbye on the cheek, “see you at the office,” looking down at Scully with a smile, “around 11 you think?”

Amused as all hell, she patted Skinner on the arm, “I wouldn’t try before noon. Let that aspirin work its miracles.”

&&&&&&&&&

Skinner appeared in the basement just shy of 2pm, looking fairly stable, coherent, stately, but knowing things were to the contrary, Mulder offered him a chair, which he turned down in favor of wider stance and crossed arms, “what’s in Oregon?”

“That request didn’t take long to get to you.” Mulder gathered up a handful of papers, a stray candy bar that slid in his pocket immediately and loosened his tie, “Billy Miles is in Oregon and as soon as Scully gets back down here, we are on our way out.”

“First case Billy Miles?”

With an oddly nostalgic half-smile filling his features, “another nice trip to the forest.”


End file.
